


your chance to even up the score

by torigates



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Kate felt like the universe was playing a joke on her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your chance to even up the score

 

  
Sometimes Kate felt like the universe was playing a joke on her. Everything, from Castle’s first appearance in her life, to his continued presence, his books, the way he had wormed himself completely inside her life without her meaning for it to happen, or even wanting it.

Really, someone somewhere had to be laughing at all this.

(When she took the time to think about it, Kate was sure that someone was probably Castle himself.)

And really the most frustrating part of it all was how little she even minded anymore. Sure, some days she felt like she could probably strangle Castle with her bare hands and feel better for it, but most of the time she liked having him around. Even worse, she missed him when he was gone.

It was ridiculous and frustrating because she couldn’t even blame him anymore. She couldn’t even put all the fault on Castle’s shoulders. She was the one who sent him away in the first place. She was the one who missed him when he was gone. _She_ was the one who wanted him around.

She had to send him away. Everything, _everything_ had escalated so quickly. One minute they were partners and nothing else, and the next he was completely in every aspect of her life, and saving her, and kissing her, and telling her he _loved_ her--and it was too much. It was just too much.

Kate thought that if she could just get some space, if she could just get her head clear then she could make sense of everything that happened between them and how she really felt, and it would make everything easier for everyone.

It didn’t make everything easier. It was so much worse.

When he was gone all she could think about was the way he hovered over her, how his face was the only thing she could see, how his hands on her chest where the only thing she could feel, and his words, his words were the only thing she could hear.

It wasn’t fair. So much of her relationship with Richard Castle was defined by his words. Before she knew the man, she knew what he had to say, and she admired him (and was _that_ ever a fact that came back to haunt her). Once they were acquainted she learned just how _much_ the man had to say, and when it came down to sheer numbers, what he had to say wasn’t always worth listening to.

Except when it was.

When he was gone, Kate couldn’t think past those three words. They bounced around the inside of her skull, like they had gotten into her bloodstream with the bullet and lodged inside her.

It was too much. It was all too much.

When Rick came back Kate thought maybe it would change things between them. Maybe they could get past the words he said and her lie and be partners like they were before. And they did. They were partners and they worked together and Rick talked just as much as he always did, his words spilling out between them like a canyon, like a river, like a bridge.

Just not those words.

Kate had thought--hoped, really--that she could ignore everything between them. Pretend that those words had never been thought or dreamt, let alone spoken out loud and drawn into her skin.

Castle’s apartment looked the same as every other time she had been there. Kate couldn’t help but smile back when Rick greeted her at the door with a wide grin.

“Beckett,” he said.

She nodded in greeting. “Castle.”

He stepped aside, and she walked over the threshold. Every time Kate was invited over, she couldn’t help but notice just how much his place was exactly like him. From the books, to the toys, just everything about his home was inherently him.

He had invited her over after their latest case for a drink. Kate liked to tell herself that this wasn’t a habit between the two of them. She liked to pretend that these moments were just the same as they had always been; platonic, safe, distant.

Castle’s hand at the small of her back as he ushered her into his kitchen was anything but platonic, although she was sure he meant to try.

He handed her a glass of wine, and she smiled at him over the rim. The wine was sweet and rich, and she could feel it roll down the back of her throat. She closed her eyes briefly to savour it.

When she opened them, Castle was staring at her mouth. She brought her hand up to her lips, and he looked away. She wished he wouldn’t.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She shook her head and sipped her wine again. Castle watched her, and she couldn’t resist smirking a little at him. He was predictably easy. Her tongue darted out to lick away a bit of wine left on her lips, and he watched her.

He always watched her.

Kate knew he liked to say it was for the books. Without Kate Beckett there would be no Nikki Heat. In the beginning that was true enough.

He watched her for a different reason now. Waiting for the sign that it was okay to take that last step, to cross that space between them that his words simultaneously bridged and kept apart.

Sometimes, like now, Kate wanted so desperately to show him that sign. To tell him she was ready for everything he wanted, everything _she_ wanted. She wanted that so badly, she wanted so many things, but still, always, she was afraid.

She put her glass down on the counter with a clink. He took another sip from his own before following suit. They were standing close, and her fingers itched to reach out and touch him. She could still taste the wine in her mouth, and she imagined what it would taste like on his mouth.

Her feet moved.


End file.
